


Nah

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 09:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis gets another virginity lecture. Fun times.





	Nah

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Noct gets called into someone's office--Regis, Cor, Clarus, whoever--and gets yet another lecture on needing to respect the line of Lucis. It's a lecture he's heard basically his entire life. And yeah, he gets it, virginity is a powerful political tool, blah blah. Too bad he threw out those rules a long time ago and is fucking around behind everyone's back. +Noct not paying attention to this lecture because he's too busy day dreaming about his exploits from the night before ++At the end, he solemnly, but with a slightly shit-eating grin says, "Got it. Don't sleep around. I'll keep that in mind."” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=8712238#cmt8712238).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis retains his casual demeanor as he strolls into his father’s office, where the king himself is standing over by the window, hands clasped behind his back. If Noctis were _truly_ in trouble, he would’ve been practically dragged in the second that something happened, rather than calmly invited by after dinner. As Noctis slips into the heavy chair pulled up before his father’s desk, Regis turns slowly around. He coldly asks his son, “Noct... do you know why I wished to speak with you?”

Noctis drawls, “I haven’t the faintest idea,” even though he has a fairly good guess. He’s sure his father caught him ogling Ignis’ ass as the royal advisor served them dessert only an hour earlier. Normally, Noctis would do a better job of hiding his interest—after all, it’s not like he doesn’t already know that ass by heart. But Ignis had worn particularly tight dress pants, the black, almost metallic ones that sucked so tightly to his skin, perfectly cupping each taut cheek, the seam conspicuously drawn along his crack. When Ignis bent over to place the treats he’d handmade Noctis on the table, of course Noctis’ eye were drawn to the tantalizing sight, and of course his gaze lingered as Ignis carefully rearranged the table. He has such a grace about him, posture always impeccable, but that artful arch of his spine only made his rear end stick further out, and Noctis is no angel.

Regis seems to search his face, but Noctis keeps his features carefully bored. After a minute of this, Regis retires from the window and wanders over to his desk, limp soothed in the easy refrain of his own office. There’s a soft rug underfoot here, and the space is relatively small for the reflective splendor of the palace. Regis gives a little sigh as he eases into his chair, and then he steeples his fingers and leans over to fix Noctis with a renewal of intensity. “I’m sure you know by now, Noctis, that you must respect the line of Lucis.”

Noctis nods automatically. He’s been told that a hundred times before. And he isn’t surprised when his father slips right into the familiar lecture of all that that entails. Noctis just zones right out, wondering faintly if the wording of the verbatim rant would be any different if Regis knew just what Noctis did to that great ass of Ignis’ only last night. Conjuring the memory of Ignis’ long, sweat-slicked body, flushed and bared to Noctis’ hungry hands, helps him get through it. He even dares to close his eyes for a whole second, during which he pictures his advisor clad in only an apron, serving him cream pies. 

He opens his eyes again and almost laughs. Somehow, he manages to stifle it. His father continues on, “Virginity is a powerful political tool, Noctis. It makes the promise of a political marriage far more substantial. By the same token, the loss of it can ruin a family’s image. And the public image of the crown is enormously important...”

Noctis already knows. But it doesn’t matter. None of his boytoys would ever go to the tabloids. Prompto’s the only one not on his father’s payroll, and even he would never jeopardize his place in Noctis’ bed. Prompto _loves_ Noctis’ mouth as much as Ignis loves his dick, and even if the tabloids ever did get wind of their affair, there’d only be compliments to publish. He can easily imagine Prompto gushing over his handsome prince, that prince’s big, fat cock, how damn good the entire package looks naked—how photogenic. Prompto’s phone is full of not-even-slightly tasteful nudes. And Noctis is grinning in most of them, legs spread and body proudly on display. Prompto _worships_ him. 

Regis cuts into the pleasant trail of memories: “If anything, you’re lucky you’re allowed as much freedom as you are. Many on the council think that your Shield should be chaperoning you around, charged with your purity as much as your safety...”

Noctis has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from snorting. Gladiolus is the last person who should be charged with _purity_ , given what a dirty mouth he’s got. He never fails to eat Noctis out in the showers after practice, which is all the filthier for how much Gladiolus pumps him full beforehand. Half of Noctis’ success with his sword is from just how hard his Shield works him—not only does he constantly train, but he does after being fucked stupid and plugged up, thighs left drizzled in seed as Gladiolus bears down on him across the training yard. It makes him wonder if his father really thinks he’s tired all the time from training alone, and not from his trainer running him ragged against the mattress and floors and any wall in sight. It still stings a little to sit down after the last time he messed up a warp strike and got spanked so hard he came. 

Finally, Noctis has to cut it out, has to clear his head and picture lost kitties and bloody King’s Knight battles, because if he keeps it up, he’ll wind up getting hard in his father’s office. And he’s currently trapped with one of the very few men in the palace who’s _not_ an option.

At least that gag-worthy thought calms his lap down, so when his father finally finishes the lecture, he can sit up straight and actually pretend he heard. Regis still sternly asks, “Noct, have you been paying attention?”

He hasn’t had to in years. But he dons a restrained grin and solemnly answers, “Got it. Don’t sleep around. I’ll keep that in mind.”

His father’s eyes narrow with a glimmer of suspicion. But Noctis doesn’t waver, and finally, Regis nods. Leaning back in his chair, as though _he’s_ the one that just survived an earful, he announces, “Dismissed.”

Noctis gets up with half a bow and leaves like one of his father’s soldiers. Of course, all of them are allowed to fuck. Noctis manages to keep it together on his way out of the office.

In the hall outside, Nyx is evidently waiting for an appointment. He glances up when Noctis walks by, and Noctis can’t help his friendly half-grin. He’s already wondering when he’ll add that one to his collection.


End file.
